Yeah. I made a cake and it tasted lonely. Don't own Naruto.
She had always loved cooking. But no one noticed.
"Three eggs…" she mumbled, as she looked into the scarce refrigerator, it needed a new light bulb. Soft teal eyes stared sadly at the light bulb; it was almost like her hope. Tugging open the beat-up carton of eggs she pulled out two and shrugged.
Temari loved cooking. But she never had the time.
If it were up to her she'd rather tend to decorating cakes, than decorating the ground with someone else's blood. Cracked eggs, caked flour blotches around the sink, the hint scent of vanilla lingered in the air. The cramp in her arm was starting to numb away with all the mixing. The mixing bowl had been stained with odd brown blotches and so had the sink. Blood, she thought. Making a quick note to question Kankuro about cleaning his wounds with her bowls. The swirls of vanilla and chocolate reminded her of the sand tornado's that whisked by her window at night; Kankuro and herself would huddle in front of the cracked window and peeked through and watch in amazement.
"I wish Gaara could see this…"
"Oh shut up, Temari..."
She always cooked alone. Except for today.
She blinked, looking up from the bowl she turned slowly. 'Gaara…' Visibly tensing she continued on mixing. "Huh?.." Looking down she spotted a mop of furry mass. It had been the mutt Kankuro had brought in on his way from Konoha. She smiled, remembering how well the dog-boy from Konoha had lighted her middle brother's heart.
She loved every kind of cake. But no one knew.
Kneeling around the oven, the warm heat radiating around it soothed her, despite the humid heat of Suna. After the satisfy sound of the bell, pulling out the cake and placing it on a plate she sighed. The sides were a golden brown and swirls had faded. She stared dazedly at the cake, only cutting a single thin slice and nibbling on it. Frowning she tossed the slice to the mutt who had scurried out into the hall, grazing Gaara as he entered the room slowly.
She was always the first to judge her cake. No one else would.
Tucking her head into her crossed arms she let out a little yawn. No longer feeling the fear lurked in her heart when Gaara entered the room. She had felt a pang of guiltiness as she felt Gaara slowly drag himself to the refrigerator, opening it then slamming it. She didn't dare flinch.
"Temari."
"Yeah?"
"You made this?"
"Yes."
He knew she had lifted her head slightly to watch him cut a slice of cake; taking note he took the part with the most chocolate. Through the obscure strands of her hair she saw it was still warm.
"Hm…" He mumbled, sniffing the foreign object. He had never tasted cake, had he?
"It's cake…"
"I know." He glanced at her, his milky mint orbs traced the slice as it slightly lop over in his pale hand almost falling apart. Quickly he nibbled a piece and paused.
"You don't like it?"
"It doesn't taste the same."
She blinked. She had never seen him taste her cake. Making a note to apologize to Kankuro for accusing him of stealing pieces of cake she continued on.
"But it's…"
"Marble. I know."
She frowned as he put down the piece and got up, she got up also.
No one had ever told her the truth about her cake. But him.
"What does it taste like?" Eyeing him, she was his eyes trace the cake once more as if observing a person.
"Lonely."
Lonely? That was it? She mouthed the word…lonely. Has it always tasted like that? No, not this time. Feeling his lips pressed on to hers' she tasted the cake and something else familiar…something warm, Gaara's tongue? No. Love, it was love. He pulled away and shuffled out of the room without a word, leaving her breathless.
"Gaara…"
She turned to the cake as it sat there idly.
"Next time…I'll make it with love."
With that she tossed the cake into the garbage.